


21 questions

by Annebee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek POV, Derek realizes stuff, Fluff, LOTS of Questions, Love, M/M, Stiles asks ridiculous questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annebee/pseuds/Annebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles starts asking the most ridiculous questions. Derek indulges him, until it clicks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	21 questions

**Author's Note:**

> This is my sterek secret santa gift for Aredesification . I hope you like it. :)

It starts with a text in the middle of the class Derek’s assisting on. He waits until the professor has gone to one of the students to explain something.  He sneaks a look at it when he thinks no-one’s looking.  
  
_Derek! Do you think snails have feelings? :D_

Derek has a hard time trying to supress both an eye-roll and a smile at the same time. He doesn’t succeed as he glances towards the front row. Boyd’s sitting there with that look he gets when he knows exactly who Derek’s texting. According to Boyd Derek gets this faraway look, even after the 4 years they’ve been together.

Derek denies it.

He slides his phone back in his pocket and spends the rest of the time surreptitiously glancing at the clock. Which, of course, Boyd sees every single time. Derek wills himself to wait to reread the message again until everyone has left. He keeps busy collecting his books and papers and shoving it in his bag.

When he’s certain that everyone has left he grabs his phone and turns around. Derek looks up and nearly jumps out of his skin, because Boyd is still sitting there. Boyd, who’s got one eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.  
  
  
“Something the matter, Boss?” Boyd grins.

“Shut up, Vernon!” Derek grumbles.

Boyd merely gets up and claps Derek on the back. He’s almost at the door before he turns back to Derek again.  
  
“Tell boyfriend I said hi.”  
  
Derek huffs and waves his friend off before turning back to his phone. Before he can open the text Stiles sent, his phone’s buzzing again. Derek thumbs over his screen and sees another message from Stiles.  
  
_Also…If you were a worm, how long would you be?_  
  
  
What? Derek shakes his head and reads it again. Surely, he must’ve read that wrong? Nope, it’s still there. What’s he supposed to answer to that? ‘Oh, Stiles, I don’t know, I think I’d be about 6 inches based on this or that fact.’  
  
Derek closes his eyes and drags his hand over his face. He loves Stiles to the moon and back but Derek seriously wonders what goes on in Stiles’ head most of the time. He throws his phone in his bag and leaves the room, just as a new stream of students start to come in.  
  
When Derek gets home, Stiles is sitting on the living room floor. His stuff spread out on the couch, the coffee table and the floor. Nothing new. Derek kicks off his shoes, hangs away his coat and moves over to the living room. He leans over the coffee table ready to give Stiles a kiss. Stiles, however, doesn’t move closer. More so, Stiles pulls his head back and pouts.  
  
“You didn’t answer my texts from earlier.”

“Uhm…” Derek mumbles unintelligently.

“So,” Stiles goes on as if Derek didn’t make a sound, “what’s your answer?”

“Really, Stiles?”

“No answer, no kissies from Stiles.” Stiles raises his head defiantly and smacks his lip.  
  
And well, if he puts it like that. What could it hurt to answer some of Stiles’ ridiculous questions, right? Stiles truly is a great kisser. And no-one, Derek in particular – _only Derek_ , should miss out on kissing Stiles. So because Derek is a big push-over, he indulges his boyfriend.  
  
“I don’t think snails have feelings, because if they would they would probably die of sadness because they realise how slow they are. And if I was a worm, I’d be about 6 inches… You know why.” Derek complies.  
  
  
There’s a beat and then Stiles starts laughing so hard, he has to clutch his stomach. Derek stares at him for a second and then turns around and walks to the kitchen.  
  
“No, no, no, don’t go! You get all the kissies!” Stiles shouts as he scrambles up and plasters himself to Derek’s back.  
  
“You ask me these ridiculous questions, you expect me to answer them seriously and then you laugh at me. Watch me go, right now.” Derek replies, trying to stride firmly to the kitchen, which is definitely harder with Stiles clinging to him like a koala bear.  
  
“No, Derek, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, okay. I mean you just compared your dick to a worm. How can I not laugh?” Stiles lets him go and goes to stand in front of him.  
  
Derek is about to protest when it dawns on him. He actually did make an unfortunate comparison between the length of a worm and his dick.  He bites his lip and tries not to laugh. Or die from embarrassment.  
  
“See…” Stiles smiles up at him. Derek just huffs a little. “Come here and kiss me, you gorgeous idiot.”  
  
And yeah, answering those questions in exchange for kissing Stiles was worth it. Especially when Stiles gets his knee between Derek’s legs and start walking him backwards to the couch.  
  
Even more so when Stiles’ hands start to wander over Derek’s chest and to his belt after they fell on the couch. It stops being worth it when Stiles accidentally knees Derek in the balls when he flails upright.  
  
“My research!” He cries out. “I had a system for that. Derek get off the couch.”  
  
“Little preoccupied.” Derek wheezes out, his hands clutching his balls as if the pain’d go away like that.  
  
Stiles whips his head towards his boyfriend and his eyes widen comically.

“Shit, sorry, Derek!”

Derek just grumbles some really creative words at his boyfriend.

“I can gently kiss it better.” Stiles suggests.  


And despite the pain, who’s Derek to say no to such an offer?  
  


**

The questions don’t stop. Derek keeps getting questions, one even stranger than the other, at odd moments. The thing is, Stiles never just asks Derek. It’s always by text. The only thing Stiles’ll ask is Derek’s answer.  
  
Derek never texts back when he gets a question either. He replied once and then got a stream of texts asking why he thought so and how he came to that particular answer. So Derek gave up. Besides, what is the point of texting a reply back when he can just walk to the other room?  
  
Because, oh yeah, that happens too.  
  
Derek’s preparing dinner one evening when he hears the vibration of his phone against the surface of the kitchen table. He finishes chopping the vegetables before drying his hands and looking at his phone.  
  
  
 _If you had to choose between a million bucks or the ability to fly…what would you choose?_  
  
Derek frowns as he reads the question again. Both options are pretty appealing if he has to be honest. He turns his head from side to side, pursing his lips and quirking an eyebrow. Derek shakes his head and puts the phone down and walks the short distance to the living room.

“I don’t know.” He states to the room.

Stiles looks up from where he’s buried in an essay. He stares at Derek for a couple seconds and then his eyes widen. Derek shakes his head fondly. Trust Stiles to have forgotten about something he sent only a minute ago.

Stiles’ mouth forms a perfect O-shape when his mind clicks to what Derek’s talking about. It’s quite distracting, if Derek’s being honest.

“I admit, that’s a tough one.” Stiles says.  
  
  
They stay quiet then, thinking over the question. After a minute or two, Stiles breaks the silence to ask Derek which one he chose.

“I’m gonna go with the money then. I can buy myself a plane for flying then.” Derek decides.

“You can buy a plane for one million bucks?”

“A helicopter then.”

“But that’ll only get you that far.” Stiles argues.

“Don’t care, I’ve got money, I can just hop on a plane.” Derek says petulantly.

“Aw baby, don’t be like that.” Stiles gets up and steps closer to Derek to kiss the frown of his face.  
  
  
And if they do a repeat performance of what happened after Stiles sent his first questions, it’s no-one’s business but theirs.

Their repeat performance, or _encore_ like Stiles calls it – _Pretend it’s a show, Derek!_ \- somehow turns into a regular thing. Every time Stiles asks Derek one of his ridiculous questions it ends with both of them panting, naked and very sweaty.  
  
  
Derek’s not complaining. _Not at all._

**

The questions don’t seem to stop though. Derek’s at the gym on a Thursday night. He’s finishing up his cardio. When he’s finished running on the treadmill, he walks back to the locker room. He’s wiping off his face when a female voice speaks from nearby. Derek does a double take to make sure he didn’t accidentally walk into the wrong locker room, but it’s only Erica. She’s probably waiting for Boyd to finish. He doesn’t even bother asking.  
  
“What did you say?” Derek asks instead.

“I said,” Erica starts, rolling her eyes at him, “your boyfriend is getting weirder as the days go by.”

It’s only then that Derek notices she’s holding a phone. _His_ phone to be exact. He holds out his hand and stares her down until she relents and hands the phone over.

And as expected there is another text from Stiles. They’d come pretty steady this week. At least one a day. Derek unlocks his phone and shakes his head at the question.  
  


_Do dogs feel pretty when they wear sweaters?_  
  
Derek barks out a laugh then. Only Stiles, he thinks. Erica perks up at his laughter.

“What are you laughing about, Derek? What’s so funny about that? It’s not some weird form of sexting you guys do, right?” She shoots question after question at him.

Derek doesn’t reply. He just grabs his bag and kisses her cheek.  He even adds in a ruffle over her head because he knows that’ll annoy her. He passes Boyd on his way out and before the door closes, he can hear Erica complain about it to her boyfriend.  
  
  
Derek smiles the entire, albeit short, walk home. He throws his bag to the side, kicks of his shoes and calls out a general ‘I’m home’ when he doesn’t immediately spot his boyfriend. He walks straight to the bathroom for a hot shower.  
  
Derek’s peace and quiet only lasts five minutes. He can hear the bathroom door open quietly and it doesn’t take long before he feels a gush of cold air on his back when the door of the shower cabin opens.

Long arms wind around his middle and a soft kiss is pressed to the nape of his neck. Derek instantly leans into Stiles’ touch. He enjoys the soft caress of Stiles’ fingers on his chest and stomach.  
  


“You didn’t answer my question.” Stiles murmurs in his neck.

“I’m sure dogs feel pretty when they wear cosy sweaters.” Derek mumbles, not giving a care in the world. He’s just enjoying his boyfriend’s touches and the hot water.

“Not that one, the other one.” Stiles nips at Derek’s ear.

“Hmm? I only got one.” Derek replies, turning his head a little to give Stiles more access.

“The one about the birds.” Stiles pulls his mouth back from Derek’s ear.  
  
  
Derek groans internally, not at all pleased with the loss of contact and turns around. He puts his hands on Stiles’ shoulders. He takes a moment to admire the little droplets falling down from Stiles’ face, before asking him what the question was about the birds.

“Do you think there are birds that sing off key?” Stiles asks him seriously.

Derek just stares at Stiles. He lost all his focus. First because of Stiles’ touches now because he has to look at his wet boyfriend who’s _not_ touching him anymore and Derek just can’t. He gives up.

“I don’t think so. I don’t know why I think that. And I frankly don’t care.”  
  


Stiles is about to protest but Derek catches his lips between his fingers, stopping Stiles from making a sound. Derek gets a glare in return.

“Stiles, you’re standing here wet and naked in front of me asking me a ridiculous questions about birds. I really don’t want to think about that. I’d rather defile you right here, right now.”

 

The glare, Stiles was sporting, has changed into something else completely. It’s all hands and lips after that.

**

The day after their shower adventure Derek is home alone. Stiles went to a concert downtown with Scott. Derek is lying on the couch, lazily watching some TV. He’s not really paying attention, though. He’s thinking about Stiles. Not just him but all that encompasses his boyfriend.  
  
Derek reaches for his phone and scrolls through his texts with Stiles. In between all the idiotic questions – of which there are nineteen – there are the normal texts, the sweet ones, the funny ones. All so incredibly Stiles.

Derek smiles wider the more texts he rereads. Stiles is an idiot, but he’s Derek’s idiot. Stiles with his flailing arms and cute button nose, his quick wit and sharp tongue. Stiles is intelligent, he’s caring, warm and loving. He always keeps Derek on his toes, he’s spontaneous where Derek likes to plan, he doesn’t take anyone’s shit especially not Derek’s and the sex… The sex is absolutely amazing! Derek couldn’t have wished for a better life partner.  
  


And just that thought makes Derek sit up straight, his phone and the TV forgotten. Derek starts laughing out loud when the realization hits him. He can’t stop laughing. It’s pure joy that surrounds him right now.

He doesn’t want Stiles to be his boyfriend, he wants Stiles to be his life partner, _his husband_.

When Derek goes to bed that night, he’s feeling so happy he falls asleep smiling in his pillow.

 

“Derek… Derek!”

Derek opens one eye blearily. He hisses when ice cold feet are rubbed against his calves.

“Derek, you have to answer my question.”

Derek groans and blindly reaches out and shoves Stiles’ head away. Stiles laughs softly and crawls even closer to him.

“M’ phone’s in the living room.” Derek mutters against Stiles’ shoulder. “Just tell me.”

“Ugh fine, you spoilsport.” Stiles sighs, but then quickly pecks Derek’s forehead. “Do cows get cold?”

“Really, Stiles?”  
  
  
Derek’s suddenly wide awake. He sits up, flicks on the bedside table and looks down at Stiles, who’s grinning up at him. But then Derek remembers what he realized earlier. He grins back at Stiles. Let no-one ever claim again that Derek Hale can’t be spontaneous.

“Yes, they do.” Derek tells him solemnly.

Stiles opens his mouth but Derek interrupts him before he can go off on a tangent about wanting a more elaborate answer.

“No.” Derek tells him. “It’s my turn to ask a question now.”  
  
He waits until Stiles closes his mouth. 

“Will you marry me?” Derek asks.

 

There’s a beat and then…

 

“GOD DAMN IT, DEREK! Fuck you! Seriously fuck you!” Stiles shouts, shooting up in a sitting position.

 

And what? That was definitely not what Derek was expecting. Before he can say or do something, like apologizing or something, Stiles is rambling again.

“Are you fucking serious right now? I’ve been preparing this for a month, Derek Andrew Hale! I came up with all these ridiculous questions. Twenty if you hadn’t noticed. And today was going to be the twentieth and twenty-first. TWENTY ONE QUESTIONS!” Stiles pauses, but before Derek can open his mouth, he goes on.

“Will you marry me?” Stiles huffs. “That was _my_ question, Derek. _I_ was going to ask _you_ to marry me. I even bought a ring and all. Been keeping it a secret for over a month. Have some respect, Derek.”  
  
  
Derek watches Stiles. He’s pouting, actual full on pouting. Derek takes a moment to process that. And when it clicks… He’s laughing again. He tackle hugs Stiles and peppers him in kisses.

“‘s not funny, Derek.” Stiles mutters, petulantly.

“Ask me again, then. Properly this time.”

“No, it doesn’t count now.”

“Just do it, Stiles.” Derek lifts his eyebrows.

“Ugh fine…” Stiles sighs and pushes Derek of off him. He climbs out of bed and walks out of the room. When he returns, Derek’s sitting on the side of the bed.

“I pictured this completely different, but whatever.” Stiles announces before sinking down on one knee.  
  
  


“Derek Andrew Hale… You put up with me in times where I frustrate you to no end, when I talk a mile a minute, when I ask you the most ridiculous questions. I couldn’t have wished for a better partner. You’re understanding, loving, caring, smart, ridiculously hot, but above all you’re mine. And I like to keep it that way. Will you marry me?”

Derek’s about to say yes, when Stiles shakes his head.

“I had more, there was so much more I was going to say, but you totally threw me of my game here, Derek.”

“Stiles?” Derek interrupts. “I do. I wanna marry you.”

“Oh thank God!” Stiles shouts and then jumps on the bed, pinning Derek to the mattress. “I’m so going to defile your nubile body, now.”  
  
  


And what can Derek say? The encore is the best part of the show.

 

 


End file.
